Thoughts of a Shambled Kittenhood
by MikeBlazeSinian
Summary: Chance hears of Mike's lonely past for the first time, after Mike has flashbacks of such. How is the problem solved, and how will it affect Mike's career? Rated M for sexual interaction and mild language.
1. Visit to Chance

**Title: Thoughts of a Shambled Kittenhood**

**Author: MikeBlazeSinian**

**Rating: M (Sex in Chapter 2, minor language)**

**Summary: Chance hears of Mike's lonely past for the first time. How do they help each other out?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _SWAT Kats_. It is owned by Hanna-Barbera and its staff. The themes are being used for my own enjoyment and no profit is being made in the process.**

**Author's Note: I hope you enjoy my first published fanfiction.**

Chapter 1: Visit to Chance

Mike Sinian, a small, gray furred Kat, was driving away from the MegaKat Central Speedway, where only a couple of hours ago, he finished 10th in the Bilstein Motorsport Championships race. In the back of his small truck were the engines out of his team's stock cars.

Not letting them go to waste, Mike made his way to the military salvage yard. Through the business districts and the prison sector, he pulled into it on the right. As he stopped in front of the open garage door, another Kat rolled out from underneath a vehicle he was working on, covered in grease.

"Hi, Mike," the other Kat, known as Chance Furlong, said. "What brings you?"

Mike got out of his truck and Chance stood up, wiping his paws. "I thought you may want to use the VT engines from today's race," Mike said.

"Depends on the wear," Chance said, walking over to check them out.

Mike waited while Chance examined the engines. 'Well, two beautiful V8's could be going to waste at any moment.' The last thing he wanted to do was scrap the engines.

"These are perfect," Chance said. He patted Mike on the shoulder. "Great find, bud."

"Really?" Mike asked, ready to accuse Chance of lying. "I...um...guess it's no issue, the more the better, right?", thinking that the piles of trash had countless.

Chance walked into the office, sitting down on the sofa there. 'Damn! You went too far, Mike!' Mentally hitting himself, he reached into his truck to get two bottles, then joined his friend on the old piece of furniture.

"What'cha got there?" Chance asked, reaching for the remote.

"My favorite soda," Mike said. "They were selling it at the speedway today, I got the last two." He offered one to Chance. "Crush Banana. Want one?"

"I've never seen banana soda," Chance said. "I'll take it."

Mike handed Chance one of the sodas, and leaned back into the sofa. He opened his bottle and took a large swig of the soda, savoring the flavor he had almost forgotten. He only hoped that he wasn't drinking one with dissolved hallucinogens in it. He frowned as thoughts of the zombie-like state he entered after the last time he had this soda emerged.

"Mike?" He heard Chance ask. He removed himself from his thoughts and looked left to see Chance looking down at him. "You doing alright?" Chance asked.

"Just thinking," Mike said, his body heat rising from his inner feelings. "Hey, where has Jake been?" His body temperature further rose, thinking that Chance knew right through him.

"He's somewhere near Portland," Chance said, standing up. "Assisting an engineering professor with the class."

Mike stood himself. "Why didn't you follow?"

"The university took the top two graduates from our class," Chance said, going into the kitchen area. "Jake was #1, as you know, but I was only 6th." He threw his empty soda bottle in the recycling bin. "You need to get more of that soda, never had anything like it."

"I'll try," Mike said. He took another sip of his, still two-thirds full, bottle of soda, wincing at an abnormal flavor that he swallowed. "It's really hard to find, though. The last time I found it was back in '99 when I placed 3rd in the Summer Series finale at Daytona. After that race, I bought some at the pit road concession stand." He kept silent the thoughts of what occurred next. He placed the bottle on the countertop, desiring not to finish it.

Chance looked over at Mike as they walked upstairs. Mike made eye contact a moment later. "I can tell that something is bothering you," Chance said. He stopped in the middle of the stairs, stopping Mike as well. He placed paws on Mike's shoulders, looking into his eyes. "If you need to talk, just ask. I'm here for you, Mike."

Chance did see through Mike, but not in the negative manner that he predicted. He doubted that he really had the tabby's support, even as a friend since high school. He continued his way up the stairs, and into the bathroom. He shut the door, leaving him to only his thoughts and bodily needs.

**Author's Notes: My biggest inspiration for this fic has been _Scars, Love and Abuse_ by everfaraway, one of my favorite fics on this site. If you read this, everfaraway, please drop a review if you feel this fic is too similar to yours.**

**Everyone else, please review as well. This is my first fic, I can use all the advice out there. Flames are not welcome or necessary, please refrain from using them.**


	2. Contamination and Rehab

**Disclaimer: I do not own SWAT Kats. It is owned by Hanna-Barbera and its staff. The themes are being used for my own enjoyment and no profit is being made in the process.**

**WARNING: This chapter contains sexual interactions involving Mike. If you do not like this, then do not read it.**

Chapter 2: Contamination and Rehab

Mike stripped himself of his clothing, sat down on the toilet, and relieved himself. A couple of minutes later, he cleaned himself up and washed his paws. He redressed himself, and sat on the edge of the bathtub, wanting to think for a moment or two.

Mike blinked, and noticed that he was no longer in Chance's bathroom. Rather, he was in his old home; his mother was in the room, and he was much shorter. He looked over at the calendar on the wall; the year was 1986, confirming that he was now three years old.

"Michael!" His mother called. "Come with me, honey!"

Three year old Mike rushed to her side, excited to go into MegaKat City. The gray-furred she-Kat walked him out to her car, and they drove away. Seeing that they weren't going where he thought, Mike began to whimper.

"Mommy?" Mike asked, his small black-and-gray tail twitching beneath him. "Where are we going?"

The car stopped, and the mother and son got out. "I'm sorry, Michael," his mother said. "We don't have room for you in our home." She motioned him to turn around and look at the building behind him. "Go in there, they know you're coming."

Mike turned around, seeing his mother get back in the car. He cried inconsolably. "Mommy!" He called. "Please don't leave!" But it was too late, the car was gone. He fell to his knees and continued crying, until...

He awoke from a dream. He still didn't feel right, so looked at the calendar next to his bed in the homeless shelter. The year was 1990, he was seven now. He looked out the window to see the beautiful morning, and something was out of place.

A simple go-kart sat next to his window. He opened the window and slipped out, looking over the vehicle.

"Hey, Kit," an adult male Kat said as he passed Mike. "Want to race it?"

Mike nodded. He got right in the cockpit, ready to go. "Alright, pick a number," the adult Kat said.

Mike thought about it for a moment. "I choose 68," he said, which was the first number to come to his mind.

His world spun, taking him out of the go-kart and into the middle of a fight at the homeless shelter. He was aged 11. He was surrounded by the large-muscled teen Kats that he envied so much.

"What's wrong, Kitten?" One of them said, landing a punch to Mike's nose, making it bleed. "Can't put up a fight?"

"I don't want to fight!" Mike pleaded, before receiving a blow to his midsection.

"You already are!" Another said, kicking Mike's arms in one swoop.

Mike looked into the crowd, heartbroken that no other Kat stood up for him. He received some more blows to his limbs, then...

The pain shifted to his rear. He was completely naked in an alleyway, and felt a pounding in his anus. He turned his head to see a very large black Kat holding his body. Based on where he was placed, the other Kat had his erection jammed in Mike's rectum.

The other Kat laughed as he resumed humping Mike. The grunts he made got Mike aroused, his jet black cock was stiffer than ever, and steadily leaking pre-cum. He didn't want to show signs of enjoyment at a time like this.

"Here it comes," the black Kat said, humping Mike harder. Waves of pain like never before shot through his body, sending him closer to the edge. He got violated even harder as he came against his will, letting out the loudest yowl he possibly could.

Though instead of seeing his light-blue semen spray over his body, he found himself clothed in Chance's bedroom, curled in the corner. Chance looked down at him, clearly worried. Mike now had to explain how the soda indeed had hallucinogens, and how the memory flashes transpired.

"W...wh...what happened?" Mike asked, thoroughly embarrassed.

Chance looked down at Mike, arms crossed and a curved eyebrow. "You don't wanna know," he said. "Come to bed, it's almost 11."

"But, shouldn't I be getting home?" Mike asked, standing himself up.

"You need someone tonight," Chance said. "Like I said, I'm here for you, Mike."

"Where can I sleep?" Mike asked, stepping out of the corner. He saw Chance sitting on the bed, stripping.

"Right here," Chance said, standing and moving the covers down.

Mike looked at his friend of 5 years, to the bed and back. Did Chance really want him to sleep with him? Ultimately, his trust, paired with his hormones, won out. "Oh, alright," Mike said, stripping his clothes. "You have a deal."

The two naked Kats lied down on the bed, then Chance pulled the covers over Mike and himself. "So, what happened?" Chance asked, pulling Mike towards him.

Mike purred as the strong, warm arms of his friend held him close. He wrapped his arms around the tabby and tangled his super-long tail with the other. "The soda was contaminated with various hallucinogens," he said, looking into Chance's sapphire eyes. "I got brutal images of my past that haunt me to this day." He widened his eyes.

"You never did tell Jake or I much," Chance said, moving a paw up and down Mike's back. "Mind sharing now?"

"I guess not," Mike said, smiling at the sensation. He rolled down onto his back, prompting Chance to do the same, and they gripped paws. Mike spent the next 15 minutes telling Chance about his past, highlighting the events that he hallucinated in more detail. He grew remorseful by the time he ended, feeling as bad as he did after coming to. "I guess that's it, not nearly as bad of a kittenhood as some, but hard enough for an Aspie to handle." He buried his face in Chance's chest fur as they rolled onto their sides again.

He took in Chance's scent, negating these feelings, and felt the tabby's paw rub the fur behind his ears. A surge of blood went to his cock as Chance lifted his chin so he could look him in the eyes.

"Everyone's pain threshold is different," Chance said. He leaned over to kiss Mike, which he gladly returned. His tongue explored all the crevices of Chance's mouth, picking up many new tastes along the way. Feeling Chance do the same made him harder, and he soon felt Chance's hard-on grinding against his stomach.

Mike broke the kiss, and moved his focus under the sheets. He moved a paw to Chance's groin area and tickled his cock, making the tabby shudder. He continued to do so, moving his way up the base, and backed off when he felt the pre-cum soaked tip.

"Wanna retry it?" Chance asked, turning over to be above Mike.

Mike spread his legs, though feared a similar episode. "Just expect me to be a roller coaster of emotions," he said, the sadness returning yet again. At least he was able to trust Chance at all.

Mike felt Chance place his swollen, moist cock at his entrance, making him jolt. "Are you sure?" Chance asked, gripping Mike's rock hard erection.

Mike nodded, feeling the pain subside. He felt his opening being pried, and before long, it snapped shut, closing Chance's mushroom head inside. He felt unusually good in this state.

Mike nodded again. Chance began to stroke his cock as he pushed further in. Mike felt a new euphoria in his front, but pain began to overtake the back. As he felt Chance's head rub the back of his rectum, the pain was too great at the entry.

Mike teared up, and soon his whimpers were audible. Chance held his paw still as Mike looked right at him. "What's wrong, pal?" Chance asked.

"I'm really sorry," Mike said, tears beginning to flow. "The pain is outweighing the pleasure, please pull out." His vision was blurred by his tears.

"I'm so sorry, Mike," Chance said as he did as suggested. Mike winced as the mushroom head snapped his opening again. The tabby lied on his side, and resumed stroking Mike's hard-on.

Mike shuddered with enjoyment as this happened. "Though that is helpful," Mike said, breathing heavier.

He felt the strong paw grip harder and and rub faster as his tip drooled pre-cum again. As he approached the point of no return, he leaned up to give Chance a quick kiss. He broke the kiss as he came, erupting his blue seed all over his chest. The spasms continued for nearly a minute, his cock still throbbing in the tiger tom's paw.

As the contractions of his muscles ended and his erection faded, Mike looked at Chance. "Thank you," he said being left in a neutral state of emotion. "Sex shouldn't end this way, but may I go to sleep?"

"Sure," Chance said. "And I'm sorry if I scared you."

"It was my fault for not telling you before," Mike said, losing energy. "You did nothing wrong."

"Just as long as you can still trust me," Chance said. Mike nodded, falling asleep to the sensation of the tabby licking the seed off of his chest with his rough tongue.

**Author's Notes: Please, before you review about how tepid or bad this sex scene may be to you, keep in mind that it's not supposed to be super hot. It's supposed to capture Mike's emotion as Chance helps him out.  
**

**To everfaraway: Like last time, if you're reading this, please let me know if this is too similar to _Scars, Love, and Abuse_.**

**Keep the reviews coming, every bit of constructive criticism and advice helps! ****Flames are not welcome or necessary, please refrain from using them.**


	3. Why Angry is Harmful

**Disclaimer: I do not own SWAT Kats. It is owned by Hanna-Barbera and its staff. The themes are being used for my own enjoyment and no profit is being made in the process.**

**Author's Note: This chapter can seem to move quickly. It is intended to be this way. If I detailed every action in each paragraph, the chapter would probably be 40 pages, or around 20000 words.**

Chapter 3: Why Angry is Harmful

Mike awoke with the sun the next morning. He found himself lying with his back pressed to Chance's chest as he yawned, the tiger-striped arms securing his small body. He began to pry the arms away, waking the tabby in the process.

"Morning, lightning," Chance said, sitting himself up. "Sleep well?"

Mike rolled out of the bed, standing up. "It was good," he said. "I may do it again."

Mike looked at the time on the clock, resting on the nightstand. It read 8:30 A.M. "Whoa!" He said. "I need to be out at Pocono Raceway to qualify for the Target 400 real soon!"

"Real soon?" Chance asked, eyeing Mike. "It's 8:30, you know it doesn't happen until 3."

"It's 11:30 in Long Pond, Chance," Mike said, non-verbally asking for clothes to borrow. He caught some jeans and a black t-shirt from Chance. "I don't get there soon and I start 43rd."

Chance put on his clothing. "You need to go, then," he said, pointing out the door.

"I have an idea," Mike said, walking to Chance. "Why don't you tag along? I'll pay for everything, my treat for you helping me out so well last night."

Chance stopped for a moment, then followed Mike out the bedroom door. "Okay," he said. "The Enforcers can live one day without me."

Mike knew that Chance was not an Enforcer, but understood anyway. He walked down the stairs and out the garage door with Chance. They got in his truck, powered it up, and backed out of the salvage yard.

Mike drove to the airport in the center of the city. Chance and he got out, he locked his truck, and they walked into the lobby.

The Ticketmaster appeared to be waiting for them. Mike neared her. "Two tickets to Philadelphia, please," he said.

"Credit card number," the she-Kat said as she handed Mike and Chance their tickets.

Mike spoke the 16 digits of his credit card, and the Ticketmaster copied them down. "Thank you," Chance said before he and Mike rushed for their flight.

They found the correct bay, and dashed into the parking lot and onto their plane. They handed the attendant their tickets and took their seats.

"Looks like we're just in time," Mike said to Chance as the door closed. "I wonder why we had no security checkpoints to pass?"

"Slow day, plus there hasn't been real criminal activity in almost 5 months," Chance said.

The plane took off, and Mike and Chance began to chat about anything and nothing. Before they knew it, the small plane landed at Philadelphia. "That was too quick," Mike said as he stood.

Chance nodded. Both Kats departed the plane and entered the bay, where there was a security checkpoint this time. Chance tested first, then Mike; both passing with no issue. They went out the front door and into the parking lot. "Well, we're here," Mike said as the door closed and he looked around.

"Almost," Chance said. "It's 2:50, so we're on time." Mike nodded.

In the distance, he saw the two VT haulers turning onto the main road. "Chance! That's my hauler!" Mike said. The two Kats jogged across the parking lot to catch the hauler. It rolled to a stop as they neared and they got in.

"Hey, Mike," the truck driver, who was also his crew chief James Klawsworth, said. "Your suit's behind my seat."

Mike pulled it out and stripped out of his clothes to put it on. "Who do you have with you?" James asked, turning out of the city.

"Just my friend, Chance," Mike said, zipping his suit and sitting next to Chance. "I figured he could observe me from the pit box."

"I don't see a problem with that," James said. "So, tell me a little bit about yourself, Chance."

"I was the quarterback of my high school and college football teams," Chance said. "I made MegaKat City High School the California state champs in 2000, when Mike won his Summer Series championship, and played for Portland in college."

"I remember watching those games," James said. "Furlong, right?" Chance nodded. "Do you know much about BMC?"

"I know my distant cousin, Jaron Furlong, drives," Chance said. "I know a bit about VT thanks to Mike, but other than that I haven't really kept up."

The truck pulled into the raceway, other drivers already qualifying. "Looks like we're late," Chance said, standing as the truck stopped.

"It's alright," Mike said. "I would have gone last anyway."

"Plus the officials got the memo that we would be late," James said, pushing the button to unload the Number 68 GE Aston Martin from the hauler. The three Kats left the cockpit.

An hour later, Mike was strapped into the car, completing his out lap. Coming out of turn 3, he prepared to qualify. "Make these the two best laps of your life," Mike's spotter, Clayton Black, said over the radio.

Mike headed into turn 1, using the outside lanes to slow down less. He hammered the ignition down the backstretch, shaking him in his seat. "Good so far," Clayton said as Mike slowed up for turns 2 and 3.

Mike almost lost control of the car out of turn 3. He shifted up and began his other lap. "I got way loose out of 3," Mike reported through the radio.

"We'll fix it before tomorrow," James said as Mike completed turn 1.

Lap 2 was almost identical to lap 1. "Pull it in," James said. "You're 18th for tomorrow."

Mike drove onto pit lane, accepting of though not thrilled about his performance.

_**TWENTY-ONE HOURS LATER**_

Mike was strapped into his car again, waiting to roll onto the Tricky Triangle. Chance had already taken a perch on the #68's pit box. Mike only hoped that he wouldn't crash like he had every other time he started the Target 400.

"And now for the most famous words in motorsports, please welcome your grand marshal; Target's regional HR Supervisor Laura Whiteclaw."

Mike went dark at that name. Where had he heard that name before? He tried to recall events as she spoke over the loudspeaker.

"Drivers, and my two little toms, start your engines!"

"Curses!" Mike said, flipping the necessary switches to get his engine running. 'Michael! Come with me, honey!' Yes, Laura Whiteclaw was his mother, who abandoned him at age 3. "To even think that I'm her 'little tom'? After this long?" There went all of Chance's therapy from a couple of nights before.

Before long, Laura stood next to the GE Aston Martin. "I shouldn't have done what I did to you, Michael," she said, seemingly begging. "You're such a great Kat, please, come to mama."

"Come to mama?" Mike said, flooded with anger rather than sadness or sorrow. "If you cared, I would have done it when I was 3!" He observed other cars passing him.

"Even with a bad kittenhood, we can still make amends, right?" Laura turned towards Chance, who came from Mike's pit box.

"He wouldn't think of it, Laura," Chance said. "He's my friend now, and he's a grown adult. He clearly doesn't need you."

"You're still my son, Michael," Laura said, beginning to tear up. "And I'll always love you."

"Always love me?" Mike asked, almost able to break out of the neck brace. "Alright; one, nobody refers to me as Michael, two, you may be my mother by DNA but sure as hell not by spirit, and three, you can't reverse the last 20 years of my life to make me yours!" Mike really needed to get onto the track.

"Like I said, he's through with you," Chance said. "I plan to keep it that way." Mike rolled off of pit lane to avoid what could happen next.

Driving into turn 1, Mike remained fuming, eyes on the track but mind elsewhere. He was snapped back to reality by a radio contact. "BMC officials are ruling that you can take back your position," Clayton's voice said on the radio.

"What's the point?" Mike said, hammering down the backstretch, around the rear pack of cars. "I'm angry as all hell and I DNF every damn time we come here!"

"That's the point," Clayton said. "Cool down, so you don't DNF. Now, pull in next to the 98."

Coming out of turn 2, Mike did as suggested. "Easier said than done," he said as he secured his starting position.

One and a half laps later, Mike came out of turn 3, ready to pass the green flag. "Alright, green's out," Clayton said as Mike neared the start-finish, flooring his gas pedal. "Race well, race safely," Clayton said. The radio went silent.

For most of lap 1, Mike felt the back of his car being teased by the 98, with whom he had been battling for 17th. On lap 2, he got loose into turn 1. "Keep it under control," Clayton said as Mike recovered. "Two back to the 55."

Feeling the pressure, Mike nearly jammed the gas pedal down as he sped away from the 55. He slowed up and downshifted only to make turns 2 and 3, before speeding down the frontstretch.

The beginning of the third lap. Mike already bothered himself, profusely sweating in his racing jacket, only to be bothered more by the 98 on the backstretch. Mike drove beside the opposing vehicle, setting up the battle: 68 versus 98.

He raced the 98 for the rest of lap 3 and most of lap 4, growing angrier by the second, until the third turn. "Don't overdrive," Clayton said over the radio. Mike drove too close to the rear quarterpanel of the 98, forcing him to lose control.

"I'm loose! I'm loose!" Mike said as he saw the 55 barrel towards his car with nowhere to go. The impact sent him careening into the wall, where he was jolted around in his neck harness.

His vision blurred a little, and his limbs and head tingled as the 68 stopped on the track. He saw that two more racers crashed into the 55. "Ugh," Mike said into the radio. "Driving under the influence of anger never works." He waited for EMTs to arrive, wondering if he was capable of finishing a race at the Tricky Triangle.

**Author's Notes: That's the end of this one. Please leave final comments on what you thought of my first SWAT Kats fanfiction, and as always, constructive criticism and advice is more than welcome. ****Flames are not welcome or necessary, please refrain from using them.**

**Coming next will likely be an origin story for Mike, explaining how he met Chance and Jake in high school. I will not set a time that it will be uploaded, if it works out.**


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